


Vriska Malfoy

by Zivlok



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco and Neville as bar buddies, Gen, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transgender, also Scorpius is a badass, and should never be allowed near bludgers apparently, dumb wizard boys grown up and trying to discuss things neither of them really understand, with Beer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivlok/pseuds/Zivlok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville is covering for his wife during a late shift at the Leaky Cauldron. For some reason, Draco Flippin' Malfoy is here, and it seems like he wants to talk with Neville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vriska Malfoy

He’s been here for the better part of the evening. You know he’s here, and he knows you’re here, and you know that he knows you’re here, and while Draco Malfoy may be a lot of things, he’s never been unintelligent, so he must know that you know that he knows that… wait. Where were you?

You sigh, and dry another glass. This is exactly why you never would have cut it in Ravenclaw. You know you aren’t stupid per se, but you do have a tendency to get… confused. Turned around. Overwhelmed. Sometimes this has led to your classes going a bit over on time, and as one of your students gently mentions the time, you realize you somehow started with the lifecycle of the bouncing bulb, and ended up discussing the disastrous attempts in the late 1960’s to market gillyweed as a kind of soporific, leading to the on-ground drownings of at least 12 wizards with curiously long hair. You think you might have detoured to remark upon the exact smell of puffapod beans at some point as well.

Even right now, your personal monologue has convoluted upon itself so much that you didn’t even notice Malfoy finally making his move, and walking right up to the bar and taking a seat. “Longbottom,” he says as a way of greeting. “Malfoy,” you reply. Malfoy may have changed a lot in the past couple decades, but to you, he will always be the kid who bullied you at Hogwarts. Sometimes, you almost get mad at him again about that, but then… then you remember. Not just what he’s done or said in the last few years, though it certainly has been important, but more precisely, what he looked like during your seventh year at Hogwarts. How he should have been running the school, laughing it up every day, and taking his now free license to torture any one he wanted in the school. And how instead he… he closed himself off. He’d always had a bit of a taste for the theatric, and if it had waned his previous year, it had vanished during your last year at Hogwarts. Well, his last year at Hogwarts anyway. He never stopped any cruel behavior, Lord no, but he never instigated and only ever joined in if directly asked by a Carrow or some such. You never would have even noticed it then, if Luna hadn’t pointed it out. Speaking of which, you’ve been planning on sending her an owl, if only to try and figure out where her and her… partner were currently.

Look at you, you’ve already mired yourself in your own thoughts again, and there’s a thirsty wizard with an empty glass in front of you! Expertly manipulating the taps the way your lovely wife showed you, you serve him a glass of Horntail Stout. He nods his appreciation. The silence that follows would be awkward if you hadn’t become accustomed to it during your childhood. Your gran always had only two modes - chatterbox or dead silent - and in her later years your summers got quieter and quieter. You whistle absent-mindedly and continue to polish glasses, more to have something to do than out of any real necessity. Hannah runs a pretty tight ship around these parts. You can tell there is something on Malfoy’s mind, and for some ungodly reason he wants to discuss it with you. You’ve filled in for your wife on the late shift here at the Leaky Cauldron enough times to know how to deal with slightly drunk people who want to rant about something but are too shy or reserved to do so. It’s a very complicated process that involves simply removing the word “slightly” from the equation, through a very difficult manuever known in the biz as “supplying more beer.”

During the middle of his third glass, Malfoy speaks. “Longbottom.”

“Yes?”

“You’re a teacher, right? At Hogwarts?”

“Despite the fact that I am currently slinging beers at old school… peers, that does indeed appear to be the case, and hasn’t stopped being so yet, to the surprise of all,” you retort, shelving one last glass before turning around to face him directly.

“So Longbottom grew a sense of humour as well as a spine,” he laughs. Your eyes narrow briefly, and he quickly moves on, looking slightly embarrassed, though that could just be the beer. “So, you must… you must see a lot of shit, right? Like, students doing lots of stuff, saying things, trying stuff out, um… experimenting and stuff?” You nod, wondering where on Earth this is going. It almost feels like Malfoy is about to come out to you, which wouldn’t exactly be a surprise, except for why on Earth he would be telling this to you of all people. “So my so… my… my child, Scorpius, came to me today to… talk about something. And…” Malfoy sighs, finishes his beer, and motions for another. You do so, but switch to the lighter (and amusingly named) Kelpie Spit - after all, once you’ve reeled them in, you don’t want them passing out before finishing the story.

He takes a sip and continues. “Have you… have you ever had a wizard come to class, and then the next day, they’re a witch?”

This is not at all what you expected. “You mean, like with a polyjuice potion?” you ask.

“No, not like that,” Malfoy says irritatedly. “I mean -”

“Well, I have heard that stewing and ingesting horklumps during an eclipse on a rainy dew while wearing a particular shade of chartreuse can cause a variety of amusing effects, including a brief reversal of genders -”

“I’m not bloody talking about pickled horklumps!” he spits, making you glad you started him on the lighter stuff. “Stewed,” you mutter under your breath.

“I mean, the wizard shows up to class the next day and he looks pretty much the same, but he says he’s a witch now?”

Ohhhhhhhh. Now you get it. You must say, your experience in such matters is minimal, though a pleasant but not particularly applied (at least in Herbology - Ancient Runes was apparently a different story entirely) Ravenclaw student in h… his fourth year at Hogwarts started asking to be called simply “Alex” instead of “Alexis”. You didn’t think much of it, but you did notice he- him, wearing more male-oriented clothing (though with Hogwarts dress code it’s not like there’s too much of a difference - he’d never been one to wear skirts anyway), and overheard Madame Pomfrey muttering on about cooking up an usual type of potion for Alex (though Madame Pomfrey did a lot of muttering these days, and usually of the not entirely coherent variety). You tend to let your students be students and just focus on their school work unless they come up to you - and while you’ve mentored many a student in your relatively short but varied time as a teacher at Hogwarts, Ravenclaws have been the most reticent to ask for your advice - even more so than the Slytherins! It probably has something to do with your rather convuluted way of explaining some thi- oh shit Malfoy’s talking again.

“Like, I could understand being into wizards. It’s the 21st century. It’s… it’s a new era. Look at me - I’m, I’m a changed man. I don’t…” he pauses, hiccuping slightly, stares confusedly at his hands for a brief moment, and then continues. Yeeaaah, probably just gonna give him water from this point forward. “I don’t call muggleborns mudbloods any more. I don’t. I promise. And like, we’ve all thought about it. No wizard hasn’t. If they say they hasn’t, haven’t, they’re a liar. And not a cool one like me. A... a, whatchamacalit. A dumb one. I mean, we’ve ALL been there, in the showers after a quidditch match, and you jusht HAPPEN to look over and you know maybe you don’t hate what you see!” Malfoy’s hands are really getting into it now, and he’s starting to draw attention from the few remaining bar patrons.

You do your best to hide a snicker - Ron is gonna love this story (on second thought, he might love it too much - maybe you should keep this one to yourself), and Malfoy manages to somehow combine a scowl and a blush into a single gesture. “The point is, I could understand if he, you know, flew for the other team. But this… I mean, I’m obviously not mad or anything, I just… I - I don’t have any, wazzit called, any rame of feference, any fame of deference, any, any… I just don’t quite get it.” He take another drink, and continues, fortunately with slightly less exaggerated hand motions. “Was I… am I… a bad father? Did I do something wrong? Why’s… why’s my beautiful boy got it in his head that he’s a witch?”

Hoo boy. There it is. You… you’re going to be honest, you really have no idea how to respond. Brief encounters with Alex notwithstanding, your own frame of reference isn’t exactly wide on such matters. You, not for the first time this week, wish Luna was here - she’d probably know what to say, or at least know something. You take a moment to fill a glass for yourself, and lean against the counter. “So, your… child, Scorpius, asked you to refer to… her, as, well, a her?” Malfoy nods, and continues to nurse his Kelpie Spit. Hee-hee. Kelpie Spit. That name never ceases to amuse you. Oh, right. Anyway. “Well, such matters have never been my strong suit - there’s a reason the class I’m teaching basically boils down to take green thing, put green thing in the ground - but an old friend of mine used to tell me that when all else fails, when you’re lost at sea about something, look at it logically and step by step.”

“You, you care about your child, right?”

“Of course I do. I bloody love h - Scorpius!” he snaps.

“And you said you would still love and support Scorpius if - if Scorpius preferred bludgers and broomsticks to hoops,right?” He nods. “And, well, you and your father had a rather public falling out, didn’t you?” He scowls in assent. “What - if you don’t mind me asking - what did he say when you told him you were tired of his bigoted ways?”

He stares at you, and smirks darkly. “A lot of things not to be repeated in polite company. But, but the thing he probably said the most was that, that he didn’t understand and… I expected him to blow up at me, and he damn well did, but he also… he was blaming himself, and yelling at Mother, and…” he shudders and finishes the beer. You don’t take it, but you do place a glass of water pointedly nearby.

“Exactly. He didn’t understand. But just because he didn’t understand didn’t mean he had the right to treat you the way he did later. And it didn’t mean that - I’m assuming here - some part of you didn’t still love him, and probably some part of him still loves you.” You personally doubt Lucius Malfoy could truly love anyone except his own wrinkled ass, but you’re pretty sure this is what Malfoy needs to hear right now. “You may be a Slytherin, Malfoy, but what you did took bravery. And what your son did today took bravery as well. Pardon me, your daughter. You know, we’ve never really discussed Scorpius’ schooling, and while she is not necessarily the most focused herbology student I’ve ever met, I get the chance to observe the students when not in study, and you have raised a child that is not only unfailingly kind to her friends, but an absolute terror to those she perceives as unjust. I assume you heard about The Bludger Incident, for example.”

Malfoy smiles a genuine smile for the first time this night. Well, it’s still a smirk, but it’s about as close to a real smile as you think Malfoy is capable of. “That was rather inspired - I heard Baddock couldn’t shit right for a week.”

“Make that two,” you say with a grin and sip of beer. You both burst into chortles.

“The point is,” you say, “you came here to figure out what to do. Here’s what you do - it’s very complicated. You go home, you hug your daughter, and you tell her you love her. Then tomorrow, you ask if she needs any help buying some new clothes at Twilfitt and Tattings or wherever it is you damn bluebloods shop. Then hug her again and tell her you love her. You may not understand exactly - hell, I may not understand exactly, but you raised an eloquent and intelligent young girl and I’m sure she can help explain it. And… and if you ever need to share a beer with someone you… you know where to find me.”

What happens next surprises you both.

Draco Malfoy leans across the bar and hugs you.

You would like to repeat that.

Draco MOTHERFUCKING Malfoy leans across the bar and HUGS YOU.

DRACO MALFOY IS HUGGING YOU DRACO MALFOY IS HUGGING YOU DRACO MALFOY IS HUGGING YOU

You…

 

You think you need a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopy shit, a fic by me that ISN'T the start to a series that never finishes or over the top terribad porn? This fic was inspired in part by this post on tumblr: http://pantslesswrock.tumblr.com/post/93293142922/youarebeingshaggedbyarareparrot-give-me and this song by Draco and the Malfoys: https://dracoandthemalfoys.bandcamp.com/track/p-p-re-lucius
> 
> It was one of those few times when a plot bunny attacks me and I actually roll with it and just work on a fic until it's done.
> 
> So, a few notes:
> 
> Yes, both Neville and Draco are not being perfect about this. While Neville is the advice giver here, his internal thought process is pretty problematic at points. This is intentional. I like to think that Neville made an effort to research this stuff afterwards, but I couldn't find a smooth way to fit it into the story in a way that didn't seem trite and obvious. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and speaking of internal thought process, this fic is in second person because I'm a Homestuck piece of trash and it's honestly the easiest way for me to write now. It's honestly a problem.
> 
> And yes, them still referring to Scorpius as Scorpius is odd to say the least, if not outright problematic. My second thought was that Scorpius hadn't decided whether or not she wanted to change her name yet, and this would be a process of figuring stuff out - after all, it's not like Scorpius is a really common name with lots of gender stuff associated with it. This was the thought that came after "What if she just decided on Vriska, because, you know, Scorpio", which was obviously a terrible idea that would completely throw the reader out of the story and would just be dumb.
> 
> Which is obviously why I then made it the title of the fic. Because I'm good at stuff. Also, I couldn't think of a title so here you go. 
> 
> As always, you can find me at http://pantslesswrock.tumblr.com, and I'm always open to fic requests and challenges!


End file.
